to an old friend

i miss you p. guth...you are one of the few truly gifted and compassionate souls on this wasteland of a planet...it seems like ages since the days by the lake, or the cross-country madness...the role playing of childhood acquaintances and experiences...it is hard to believe that we sat silently next to each other in saxophone row, that everyday i drove you and johnny boy to school in the almighty k...we saw the raw and ugly side of this country from mountain rednecks and their 'terlits' that wouldn't take, to the horrid pasty euro-trash of copenhagen that brought tears to your eyes...somewhere in turkey you are sleeping soundly tonite...far from the america of little league, small jersey towns, and the endless troughs of piss stained wrigley field...i suppose i am just feeling a little nostalgic tonite and i am sorry if this maudlin crap is getting on your nerves...you would always have a strange joke, emerging like a koan, to pull me out of this extreme self-loathing and illusion...i think i will go have a glass of whiskey if for no other reason than to toast your existence...you see with all the suffering, whether it be intestinal blockage that causes one to shit out their mouth, or the spiritual blockage which causes one to shit out their soul, the good lord (probably in a moment of weakness) decided to let you roam the earth...i suppose all that needs to be said is that this shit kitchen is more tolerable with you being a part of it...